


Where The Wild Wind Blows

by Alicorn



Category: Fraggle Rock
Genre: F/M, Family, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-12
Updated: 2010-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:05:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alicorn/pseuds/Alicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jr. Gorg goes missing, the races of Fraggle Rock began to fade , and a certain five are sent on one last adventure..into Outer Space! -ON HOLD-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note:

Author's Note:

This is the official sequel to my very first Fraggle Rock fanfic Song Of A Midnight Place and the last in the trilogy. It is at heart, I guess, a Fraggle Rock: The Movie plot. And you don't need to have read any of the other stories, but having seen the FR series ending would help . I know I said I was not going to be writing any fanfics set after Midnight Place but it feels like it has grown to be something bigger than me now... It is their story, after all...

 _The melody is faint, a gentle thing..like memory, like a hope. Always there..yes..always. Can you hear it? Can you hear it to?_

 _Magic, magic be with you each morning,_

 _Each evening too._

 _For the magic, magic is in every moment,_

 _Magic is true._

  
**Where The Wild Wind Blows**   


By Alicorn (aka Redsonga aka Alicornmoon )

 **Prologue**

The white haired man in front of the full length mirror tied his green and yellow polka-dotted tie with a well practiced flip of his wrist. Held steady upon the foot rests of his wheelchair, each of his patten leather shoes were soon polished to a glossy black.

His eyeglasses followed, cleaned until their silver frames rested upon his short pointed nose. He wiggled his bushy eyebrows a few times playfully, before stopping to reach behind his chair.

A furry grey paw was lifted in reply with a few faint yips and a growl for good measure as it handed up a small red comb.

"Thank you Sprocket." Jerome Crystal, known to a Doc by all his friends, dispensed a palm sized glob of hair gel onto the center of his scalp with all the precision of a brain surgeon and a wet slurping noise, running the comb slowly to the left to bury the blad spot at its' heart with a cowlick of a hair style.

"How do I look Sprocky?" He asked wheeling halfway around.

The old grey and white sheep dog mutt lifted his head up sleepily from his oversized dog bed a few inches away. His once bright black eyes were a bit more grey, the color of an overcast day with age but as he leaned forward, his paw flew to his month and an unmistakable snicker followed.

"Row? Rowrrowrow!" The dog luaghed long and hard, looking up once only to fall into an even bigger fit of hysterics as Doc tried to spike his hair upward for a moment, looking a little like a retirement home motorcycle gang member.

"Oh you're probably right Sprocket, it's better if I just be honest. Be myself." He smoothed down his hair , puffing his chest out proudly. " Myself.. Jerome Crystal, Recipient of the Society of Tinkers' Lifetime Achievement Award for Environmentally Conscious Invention Practices."

"Rowrarow.." Sprocket interjected with an underwhelmed wave of his paw, tunneling down in his bed to get a heated grip on his favorite pillow with a growl that ended with an echoing cough.

"Oh Sprocky, I _know_ you don't like the idea of me leaving you alone when you've got your cold..."

The old inventor reached down as his pet lost intrest in the pillow, placing his weary head on the mans' lap, as they both groaned from aching muscles.

"But this is my dream..my biggest dream come true. Real _fame_ Sprocky, a chance to be remembered _forever_. You _understand_ don't you, old boy?"

The old grey and white mutts' eyebrows dipped downward in an eerie mirror of the mans' own as he whined softly for a moment, fixing his owner with a loving cloudy gaze.

"Row? Rowrow.." The dog replied finally, his bright pink tongue jutting out to pant with a happy sound among his now pure white muzzle hair as he patted Doc on the shoulder, licked the inventor halfway to drowning with love.

"Good boy, there now."

Doc said when he could finally speak between licks, scratching his beloved pet behind the ears as he fixed him with a serious look.

"Don't you worry, the convention is only two days long, and the fraggles will be here to keep you company..It's only two days after all, what could _possibly_ go wrong?"


	2. Where The Wild Wind Blows Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _**Dance your cares away...** _

_  
**Dance your cares away...**   
_

Within the inventors wall and down countless hundreds of feet...beneath city streets, far pass long forgotten gold mines and their faded dreams of greed, far removed from prehistoric bones and flowing oil, the caves of the land known as Fraggle Rock rang with tiny footsteps.

 _  
**...worries for another day...**   
_

The little creatures bare mint green feet splashed into a puddle as she ran, giggling as her new found skill covered the doozers along the tunnel sides in muddy rain.

 _ **...let the music play..down in fraggle rock..**_.

She tried to jump over the next puddle of fresh spring runoff from above, just barely making it but falling down on the other side. Doing an about face crawl to fish her striped oversized pom-pom sockling cap out of the water where it had fallen the toddler plodded it quickly back onto her head at a break neck speed, taking off again.

 _  
**Down in Fraggle Rock!**   
_

Periwinkle Fraggle knew only six words. One of which, as she rounded the last corner to her final destination, she happened to be using to its full effect at the top of her small but mighty lungs without taking a breath.

An effect that was made even louder, of course, but the fact that it was also four in the morning.

The living cave she had entered was wallpapered with a berry ink sketches and watercolors drawn in a skilled steady hand, mixed with much less skilled but happy stick figure doodles of doozers, suns and radishes. Three pots containing rare lilies were watered from above by the steady drip dripping of a double layer line of laundry along the over other wall of the cozy narrow space, making a restful, nearly zen like melody...

"Mama! Mamamamamamamamama!"

The little mint green fraggle yelled, doing a full power belly flop onto the bed before her with its flowered quit.

A small darker green fraggle, barely three times the size of his assaulter, jerked bolt upright from a dead sleep where he had just had the wind knocked painfully from his stomach. His mouth opened in a small stranded scream below the feathery bright red hair that hid his eyes from view a split second later.

"Rockquake! Quick, Sugarlips, grab the children! Nail down the washbasin! Call out the stick..!...bringers."

Boobers' panic mode faded down to a whisper as he finally focused his unseen eyes catching sight of the little fraggle that happened to be sitting on his chest.

Periwinkle giggled as drops of water tricked down her own eye masking hair from her soaking hat.

She reached forward with a hand the size of a silly creature silver dollar, patting the highstring fraggle on the cheek with a loving look.

"Papa. Mama?"

"Good morning Sweetpea, what are you doing up?" Boober asked in a warm voice, turning to the side to nudge the much larger shape under the covers beside him.

"It's for you.." He whispered, gently lifting up his daughter and redepositing her on the other side of the bed.

"Hm...?" The shape replied, rolling over. "Oh, good morning Honey.."

Mokey yawned, her long hair a messy, sleep messed tumbleweed that matched her eyes. Somehow being half asleep did not seem to effect her powers of speech, as she reached out to turn her babies head to look her up and down.

"Now what have you been getting yourself into?"

The tiny fraggle laughed, grabbing the waterlogged pom-pom of hat and tugging it backward to sit upon it as if that would hide her trouble-making.

"Mama, song! Mama song!" She chipped happily, figgeting from one side to another where she sat.

"Alright, alright.." Mokey began, petting the water gently from her daughters long bangs with the edge of her own nightcap as she hummed.

" **Good morning, good morning. Oh Mr. Sun, when it is morning you play, jump, and run. Wake all the flowers with their smilies bright..Good morning, good morning, my sweet sunlight...** "

Mokey kissed the little fraggle on the forehead softly, looking into her large black eyes before brushing her downy nearly white green hair back to lay flat upon the top of her nose.

"Are you hungry?"

The toddler shook her head quickly.

"Go play with your brother then..." Mokey said with another yawn.

Periwinkle nodded, slipping off the side of the bed and running off into the just awaking shadows of the rock.

Boober smiled slowly as the two were left alone at last.

"Good morning..." He whispered.

"Good morning..." Came the reply slowly with a kiss as they drifted off again to the steady sound of size seven socks dripping..

* * *

The skrich-scratching of chalk upon limestone was very slow and steady, hardly loud enough to even awaken the little toe tickler that had crawled into the rock and hour ago and now was crurled up around the young fraggles' foot. The top of his blue silk overall style shirt was already layered with a light dusting from the white stick, masking its normally shiny copper painted wooden buttons.

Architect Cotterpin sat with a serious expression, still wearing her night swift helmet, on the doozer tram tracks running just above where the pink furred, yellow haired fraggle kneed. Far above his head, reaching to the highest point that was possible for such a small creature, a series of wavy lines ran left to right, braking the wall into tiny stripes.

"No, no, no fraggle." Cotterpin tisked. "Golly, if you ever want to be good at map drawing you have to learn to draw straight lines. Real real straight ones."

"Straight." Poppy said softy with a nod of his long muzzled face, biting down on the side of his tongue as he started a new line, his ear stalks folding down in complete concentration.

"Play!" A careful, energetic and thought destroying yell thundered right into his ear, leaving the ending of her brothers' line a sea of scribbles.

"Peeeri…" Poppy turned to glare at the small now shaking form that came at muzzle height to his stomach."You..you.. messed the line!"

"Play?" Periwinkle suggested helpfully, grabbing his drawing arm and sneezing at the mni cloud of dust it threw into the air.

The taller pink fraggle looked up at the tiny insect like doozer in silent question as she sighed, shaking her attenaed head.

"Aw, get out of here you two. I should probably be getting home anyway…class dismissed!"

Poppy laughed as he looked down to find his sister digging into the cave floor pebbles with all of her miniature might in an attempt to drag him in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Okay, okay we play." He agreed in a soft voice. "We play with my ball. Come on…"


	3. Where The Wild Wind Blows Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The green seedlings of the Gorg's garden reached toward the the first rays of the sun from their soggy bed as in the distance the tell tale clinking of cans and bottles of an just awaking enchanted trash heap rang like a series of morning bells.

The green seedlings of the Gorg's garden reached toward the the first rays of the sun from their soggy bed as in the distance the tell tale clinking of cans and bottles of an just awaking enchanted trash heap rang like a series of morning bells.

But within the halls of the crumbling castle of the gorgs, things where far from being in the same cheerful mood as the fraggle homeland or even its' own trash.

In fact at that very moment, as the gorg known as Junior sped out of the kitchen wide eyed, he would have been more than happy to trade in all his gorgdom for a two foot height and a fuzzy tail tuff.

"I can't _believe_ it!" The highborn and well educated voice that was chasing him began in a low tone.

Junior stood behind the hat rack and then lifted his head up just eye level below his fathers' best Sunday cap , zipped away to the side.

"I simply cannot _conceive_ it…" The voice continued, as Junior, silently cursing the wind retention of his baggy patched sweatshirt, ran to the other side.

The peaceful scene of his mother knitting and his father holding the yarn between his large purple fingers in two cozy chairs kitty -corner from one another was barely broken.

"That _my_ husband, to which I have dedicated all my years of _most_ radiate beauty…" The voice rattled on, and Junior lifted up the visor of the suit of armor on the wall, revealing his oversized nose.

"Bore a child…" The voice continued taking on the rough edge of Outer Space big-rig driver at the last word, this time followed by loud footsteps.

Junior zipped the other way again, somehow having slipped from the armor in record time, fueled by pure fear.

"Watch out Daddy, she's gotta _blow_!" The young gorg yelled, doing a astounding leap and diving behind his fathers' easy chair.

"Junior, what in sam-hill is going on?" Pa gorg asked, a cross looked drawing down his purple bread.

"My husband grows.. _defective radishes_!" The voice wailed in full blown crying trucker-ese.

The defeated looking from of Missy Gorg, her gigantic glasses lopsided over tear worn eyes looked as if she had just fought a grand culinary battle and lost.

Her once fine sun dress was ripped and stained with splatters of red goo that trailed all the way down to the still half full mixing bowl in her right hand. Tiny patches of her long blonde, yarn like hair, smoldered completing the picture of total ruin as she lifted up the offending half chopped radish by its' wilted top….

Or at least, _seemed_ to lift it..somehow..as her dress sleeve appeared to be completely hollow, the radish hovering in mid-air.

"He does _what_?" Pa Gorg snapped in surprise, letting the yarn loops fall to the floor as Ma gasped in horror.

He quickly threw a glare so powerful behind the chair that there was no room to hide anymore, forcing his son to stand up wearing his best 'I'm sorry' smile.

"Just _look_ at my hand, just _look_ at it!" Missy said, dropping the bowl and radish and waving her arms.

"Aw, I'd love to Artichokeheart, but ..I can't." Junior said with a shrug, looking at the empty sleeve with interest.

"Oh dear, let mother look at it Missy.." Ma Gorg said, reaching out to turn her daughter in laws hand over again and again.

"Maybe if you hold it up ta the light…" Junior suggested, and was meant with two instantly silencing looks.

"Are you sure you sure you made the beauty cream _just_ as the book says?" Ma asked.

"It's a _simple_ formula of two parts organic to one part mysticacid. I 've made it a hundred times. Why, only an _imbecile_ would be able to ruin the elements that give the mixture proper _cohesion_ …"

Missy reached to pick up her infant son from his crib, bouncing him gently against her shoulder with the support of a unseen hand as she grabbed Juniors' ear with the other.

"And _this_ would be him."

"Wait a minute, hold everything, do you mean the radishes _aren't_ workn'?"

Pa said, braking from a blank stare as his whole family froze in disbelief.

Missy let go of of her husband's ear, flinging her one good arm up with a groan.

"Why this is a _disaster_! This is worst than worst!" Pa gorg fumed as he began to stomp from end of room to the other." Not just for us, but for my little grand baby…"

 _  
**"Esquire , Esquire, my hopes could not be higher**   
_

_  
**The grand dreams, the grand schemes to which you could aspire!**   
_

_  
**But alast, alast, to never come to pass, because your skin, so light and thin might be as easy to see…**   
_

_**As glass, as glass…!**_ "

Pa gorg stopped singing, tickling under the purple chin of his grandson before going back to pacing.

" This has never happened to the fields of a _gorg_ garden, we've _always_ been..good at …"

"Since the dynasty of the Most Honorable King Gorgus the Great."Missy finished, giving her son a bottle.

"Wait a minute…Ma, how many years ago was Juniors'..coronation?" Pa gorg asked.

"Twelve years to the day, Pa, I..remember he looked so handsome in his robe…" Ma replied, ending in a sudden attack of tears that sent her fishing for a handkerchief.

"This has never happen _since_..but _before_..where's my book?" Pa yelled, his eyebrows drawn down so far they nearly met in the center.

"Oh gosh Missy, I hate when Pa gets that look.." Junior whispered behind a hand.

"It always does mean something _regrettable_ on your account doesn't it?" Missy said, in a tone close to sympathy.

"Yup."

The oversized leatherbound history book of the gorgs was heaved onto the tabletop, its thousands of yellow parchment pages making up the combined depth of two unabridged dictornaries laid cover to cover.

Pa flipped open the thick leather cover, turning to a page near the beginning, where a handpainted picture of a rolling countryside was protected under a thin piece of tissue paper.

"Here it is…

 _"The gorgs in the darkened age were …._ "

* * *

Somewhere, in a far of time and place, a tiny green radish top grew from the pitch black soil of a forest floor. The tree branches danced across the meager spot of color as a fluffy brown rabbit hopped over to the plant, perking its ears before carefully putting the tender leafs been its teeth.

Suddenly the unnatural sound of running footsteps sent the bunny leaping for cover, forgetting all about its dinner.

The sound stopped almost as quickly as it had began as the tree shadows played over the plant once more, this time set to the sound of heavy breathing in place of crickets chirping.

With a frilly of flying dirt the radish mysteriously dung itself from the earth and hovered to be seen clearly in the moonlight..the breathing sound stopping for only a moment…as the plants green stem all at once turned to brown and crumbled, its once bright red bulb a sickly white.

The rotten radish fell to the ground with a hard thump, its' bulb rolling slowly to the edge of a long brown traveling cape.

The small thin traveler looked down at the radish from within the shadows of his hood, bending down to pick it up with a gloved hand as he stepped forward to the hole. From within the folds of his cape, the stranger produced a ringed silver crown nearly as big as himself, standing upon tip toe to cast it into the air…

Where the crown hovered in place…As without a sound, the shape of a young wild-eyed, shaggy furred, light brown gorg faded into being below it, wearing nothing but the crown now placed squarely upon the center of his head where he was kneeing, his hands still covered in dirt.

The stranger bowed to the awe stuck giant, his voice ringing with a power much larger than his height.

" _ **He who shall be king**_."

* * *

" Juniooor!" Pa gorg screamed, his bloodshot eyes drilling imaginary holes into his sons' own.

"Y..yes..Daddy?" Junior chirped, starting to step steadily backward.

"All those years ago, when you did your big fancy _speech_ about no more _kings_ …" Pa began, poking him in the chest and driving him back farther.

"Your speech about _what_? You mean I'm _not_ going to be…?" Missy stammered in shock.

"We were waiting for the right time to _tell_ you dear." Ma Gorg said gently, patting her on the hand.

"..and the universe being all _big_ and all that flim-flam, when you threw away the crown…"

The former kings' brow met his sons' own as the room behind them grew deadly silent.

"You did go and get it _back_ didn't you?"

The answer, when it came, was almost too soft for even a fraggle to hear.

"…No?"

"Junior you..you dummy!" Two voices and one very unhappy sounding baby howl thundered, sending Junior Gorg tumbling head over heels out of the door and plowing face first into his newly planted petunias.

The sound of the door opening again made Junior look up, even though his mother was trying very hard not to do the same.

"Even.. _you_ Ma?"

"We've never had much..." The smaller pink gorg began, her voice barely carrying over her large nose. "But we were gorg..we are _gorg_. I just wanted my little baby to always know that."

"Aw..Mommy..I do..I.." Juniors childlike voice quailed.

" _Do you?_ " Came the simple reply as it faded into muffled tears behind the sound of closing castle doors.


	4. Where The Wild Wind Blows Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sound of a giant macadamia nut sewn over in a skin of glossy red fabric rattled though the tunnels, drawing closer and closer to their outskirts as it was bounced, flung, and tail whipped by the taller of the two.

The sound of a giant macadamia nut sewn over in a skin of glossy red fabric rattled though the tunnels, drawing closer and closer to their outskirts as it was bounced, flung, and tail whipped by the taller of the two.

This game, like most fraggle games was a mixture of two or three ones that the silly creatures happened to have borrowed thousands of years ago, but unlike the human versions, had only as many or as few rules as its players could think of each time.

Poppy fell to the ground with a flop playing dead with an overdramaic yelp, as his sister finally touched the ball and tugged it away, giggling all the while..

"That's tag!" He explained, opening one eye. "Now chase me..."

Both Poppy's eyes flew open as the sound of Periwinkles' scurrying feet ended with the sight of where the tiny fraggle..where _they_ happened to be.

Sunlight spilled over from the land of the garden into the dank enclosure of fraggle rock, highlighting the edges of Periwinkles' light green fur and the glossy red of the ball as she turned to point slowly at the new Where-ever-it-was discovery.

"Ooo..No Peri, not _there_." Poppy hissed, grabbing the ball in one hand and the middle of his sister in the other. "It not allowed‚ giant _monsters_!"

Periwinkle pointed again, this time sharply like an unspoken retort, turning her hair masked eyes upward to her brothers' own, which were starting to whether.

"Giant _monsters_!" He said again, this time releasing his hand from her waist to make fear inspiring spooky wiggles with it.

The lower part of Periwinkle's muzzle quivered with the promise of deafening tears and Poppy sighed, letting his hand go limp. The ball bounced and rattled, rolling a bold trail into the sun.

"Oopsy...Come back... ball..." Poppy said flatly, walking with a slow careful steps as he was rewarded with a bright smile that followed after him, gripping his tail.

* * *

In some odd far flung way the whatever it was that had taken up most of the once neatly tended garden was a work of modern art. The pile of ancient nick-nacks smelled of history that had been talked about far more often than it had ever been dusted, towering at nearly a gorg wide and four gorgs high.

Halfway up this rickety looking yard sale of a conglomeration, the figure of Junior Gorg scaled his way with a determined look, working at a super motivated pace for his size as he put a broken clock and half a suit of armor at its' peck.

Far down down down below, two fraggles, much smaller than most gaped in silent awe. The taller of the visitor mouthed 'wow-wee' before finding his voice in a bright tone heavy with questions.

"Hello."

Junior, sliding almost all the way back down the pile at that moment gave a startled yelp at the unexpected sound, tumbling back to earth only to come eyeball to whole body with the intruders .

"Aw it's just some of you _fraggles_. I thought you were my Pa." He sighed in relief.

"What you doing?" Poppy asked as the gorg got right back up, attacking the pile beside the tower with renewed energy as he heaved an old leather chest onto his back, starting to climb again.

"Building ah ladder." Jr. replied as if it was the most normal thing in the whole universe to be doing.

"Why?"

"I lost something real _important_ , only no one ever said _why_ it was," He placed the empty chest flat with its open depth making an almost level surface, silently willing the last five items to stop swaying with his hands. "…and now my daddy's mad at me.. _again_."

"Lost somethin'?" The pink fraggle asked as a smaller green fraggle stole another peek around his yellow tufted tail.

"Yup." The gorg replied, adding a broken trumpet and a blackened cauldron.

"Up…up…in the..the…" The fraggle pointed at the strangle new blue span above them.

"Sky. " Junior yelled from above as he started to climb yet again. "Yeah, I threw it away up n' _here_ so I figure all I have to do is get up to the spot it disappeared and _pull_ it out! _Easy_ as garlic peach pie."

"Ew…" The fraggle wrinkled his nose at the thought of the two tastes together. "Papa says high places..dan..ger..ous…"

"Aw, that's 'cause your daddy's a _fraggle_ ," Junior said with a laugh, carrying up a last heavy looking book. "Everything's scary to them 'cause they're _tiny_.. _You're_ real tiny to, should you be _out_ here? Your mommies and daddies must be worried."

"We have same ones. They brave, they not worry." Poppy said with a smile as Periwinkle silently mimicked him with a wide grin. "But…If thing..im..port…ant why _throw away_?"

"I don't know..I guess ah thought was the _right_ thing to do." Junior shrugged. "Aw well, it'll all be fixed soon, come here my little _crowny-rowny_."

As his small audience looked on the gorg reached out slowly from the very tip of the junk ladder top..when suddenly with a screeching mix of bending metal and cracking rotten wood everything happened at once:

The momentum of the falling collection sent the furry brown Junior, patched sweatshirt, battered shoes and all, flying into the spot that was just beyond his reach before. With a flash of light and a loud 'Boink!' sound the patch of sky rippled like water, swallowing the gorg whole.

Gone..a creature four times as tall as a full grown silly creature...disappeared with even the littlest trace into nowhere, in the blink of an eye...

Luckily, it was a very _loud_ blink.

"What was the sound?" A distant voice yelled.

"Mokey, I found them, they're out here in the garden!" A closer but just as desperate lower voice answered.

"Oh goodness!"

Before Poppy and Periwinkle had a chance to see if the patch of sky was hungry enough to eat a whole giant tuba and a battered loveseat a forth the size of the great hall that tumbled just below their 'monster' a dark green blur raced over, knocking the two out of the way of a falling clock.

The clock clanged and groaned as the dust settled among upturned radishes, letting out a weak coo-coo from a dangling wooden bird head as one of its eyes popped out on a spring.

"There you are!" Mokey arrived at the tangled mess that was Boober and their two children just as he got up to dust them all off.

"We were worried sick!" Boober yelled at last as Periwinkle flung her crying face at her mothers legs.

Mokey rubbed the top of the pigtailed socking-capped head, her voice very soft as Poppy looked at the ground.

"Sweetwater, oh, You _know_ little fraggles aren't allowed here until they're eight , and even then with a bigger fraggle, you could have been cage thumped!"

"I seven and a half?" He offered meekly.

"A _half_ a radish doesn't make a _whole_ stew..Oh _stew_ , you could have been made into stew..!" Boober's muzzle trembled. "…I can see it now, gorgs _reverting_ back to their dietary roots to make stew from Daddy's Poor Fuzzywocomes."

He reached down to lift the toddler up, smiling as she nuzzled her face into his long red hair.

" But _Peri_ wanted to..." Poppy peeped.

"Poppy!" Both fraggles chorused as he struck down at the invisible blow.

"Now, now Poppy don't blame your sister, she's only a baby."

Boober tisked, as little green finger was pointed toward its' brother, heavy with blame for whose idea this all had been.

"But she _lies_! _She_ wanted to see..Mr. Gorg.."

"Now Poppy, what a _bad_ thing to say!" Mokey gasped from where she was taking this perfect opportunity to pick up a radish the mess had dung up. "There are no gorgs here now."

"But..but.." Poppy's ear stalks wilted down to meet the back of his head. It really did look as if they were all alone now, the patch of sky had swallowed every hair.

"Don't throw your buts around here, little Mister‚" Boober snapped "..Use your words, they're good for your _diction_."

"Say you're sorry Sweetwater." Mokey whispered.

"I sorry ..." He whispered back in his sisters' direction, only to be cut short by a soft sound of disapproval.

"Who knows his big boy verbs? " Boober said his voice heavy and firm.

Poppy sighed, rubbing the back of an ankle with one of his oversized socking covered feet as he spoke slowly like a student reading a book in front of the class.

"I _am_ sorry you _are_ a liar Peri .. I teach you not to be, okay?"

Periwinkle laughed, reaching over to try to grab his bomber hat in silent forgiveness as their parents looked at each over for a taken aback moment and shrugged.

"You know Mokey I've been giving serious thought to the idea of writing a parenting book..." Boober said, painting the air with a sweep of imaginary printed letters.

" _Dr. Fun's Baby and Child Care_. "

"What a wonderful idea! I could help you chronicle it, I have just the right paper... I was going to use it for the legend of the _tooth stealing_ creature Red told last month, but it needs _revision_ anyway. " Mokey rattled on happily, as Boober put a helpful shoulder under the other end of the radish. "Oh, you even collaborate with Gobo when he and the others come home today, he had some experience to, with Wembley..."

"I'm _worried_ about Wembley.. he was so young when they started," Boober said, firmly grabbing the hand of his suddenly very stubborn step-son and turning him away from the garden. " Who knows what _poisonous_ effects outer space has on a young fraggle mind…"

"But..but..Papa there _was_..he _was_..a gorg‚...Papa..!" The young fraggle quailed, still pointing upward to sky with one free hand as with the other he was dragged away from the invisible portal to nowhere and back to Fraggle Rock.


	5. Where The Wild Wind Blows Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A postcard hung in a cozy spot on a cave wall, long papered many times over with drawings and Polaroid snapshots.

A postcard hung in a cozy spot on a cave wall, long papered many times over with drawings and Polaroid snapshots.

The cards' travel beaten edges framed words written with a steady, well practiced hand in small green ink lettering :

* * *

 _Dear Mokey, Boober, and Little Nippers,_

 _The other day we finally finished our journey on another floating cave across the Great Pond to more of the many Silly Creature islands. Red was grumpy at first because we didn't land on the 'right' one_

 _with our favorite Singing Place, but then everyone was happy with what we did find: A festival celebrating fish!_

 _Once a year silly creatures sew and sell Flying Fish socks and set them high up on poles to catch the wind with their mouths. I guess you can catch more wind with socks than real fish eh?_

 _It really is something to see, and the little silly creatures seemed especially happy. They laughed a lot when Red tried to climb up one of the poles in her fish outfit to go fishing._

 _We hope this card finds you okay, we will be going to our Singing Place island tomorrow and will meet you before 3rd snack at the sixty-forth east cave in Uncle Matts' room from there…_

 _Love Always,_

 _Gobo, Red, and Wembley_

 _P.S. Oh I just remembered , it's a tree tunnel, so you might want to bring your splinter needle again Boober. What's travel if you don't lose a little skin eh?_

 _  
_

* * *

_  
_

_  
**If you are confused, check with the sun**   
_

_  
**Carry a compass to help you along...**   
_

It was a wonderful place to feel alive.

The club was a spinning hopping collection of fresh faces and school uniforms, their cell phone and glow stick carrying handing dancing upward to the beat of deafening bass notes

 _  
**So stand**   
_

_  
**Stand!**   
_

_  
**Now face North**   
_

_  
**Think about direction**   
_

_  
**Wonder why you haven't**   
_

The performer on the stage sweep a hand through his hair, its' neon orange, white and green locks shining with the gloss of sweat that caught the weaving overhead lights.

 _  
**Now stand**   
_

_  
**Stand!**   
_

_  
**Now face West**   
_

_  
**Think about the place where you live**   
_

_  
**Wonder why you haven't**   
_

His tail tuff, equally dyed to earthy rainbow perfection swayed forward, making a girl in the front row faint dead away.

 _  
**Stand in the place where you live**   
_

_  
**Now face North!**   
_

_  
**Think about direction**   
_

_  
**Wonder why you haven't before**   
_

The stars' hands traveled like musical lightning up and down the strings of his glistening cherry red guitar as a shadowed drummer and bass player tried pitifully to keep up.

 _  
**Now stand in the place where you work**   
_

_  
**Now face West**   
_

_  
**Think about the place where you live**   
_

_  
**Wonder why you haven't before**   
_

They finally gave up, collapsing into ruined heaps overcome by their leaders pure talent-ousity.

 _  
**Stand in the place where you are**   
_

_  
**Stand in the place where you are**   
_

The crowd erupted into clapping, starting up a chant that made the whole club ring like the roar of a poison cackler.

 _  
**Your feet are going to be on the ground**   
_

_  
**Your head is there to move you around, so stand!**   
_

"Wembley, Wembley, Wembley!"

"'Thank you Kyoto'!" The green fraggle yelled in his most rockstar-ish voice as he was lifted up onto the sea of humanity, laughing and smiling. "Thank you..thank you…"

"Oh no, he's got _that_ look again." A far away voice drifted in from somewhere far away.

"Aw no, we gotta go soon..do you think?" Another voice added, cutting in line in front of the screams of his biggest fans.

"I don't think, I _know_ , there's nothing for it but the ice water."

"Ice water?" The startled star exclaimed as two very mean musclebound bouncers came out of nowhere with a giant barrel of what looked like fizzy water.

"Argh!"

The surrounding scene melted away in a slash of icy fizz that tasted nothing like strawberries and everything like crushed cherry colored guitar dreams.

* * *

"You with us again pal?" Gobo asked, as Wembley's vision came back into focus, to be greeted by the worried steady look of his long time best friend over his orange muzzle.

Wembley rubbed his eyes, drops of the icy attack dripping from his mop of dyed hair and down his long nose as he turned toward the sight of Red still holding an empty cup.

"This isn't going to be one of those _two_ cup daydreams is it?"

"No..I'm..I'm okay Red. Gosh, did you have to make it so _cold_ though?" Wembley said with a shiver.

The small karaoke bar stood nearly empty in its' off hours, its' well kept stage and miniature tables filled with only a few stray business men in work worn suits and what looked like a high schooler, elbow deep in a difficult looking textbook.

All and all, the three fraggles were far away from the neon bathed place of Wembley's fantasy.

The owner of the shop, a tall gentle looking silly creature in his early sixties, came over to the groups table without a word with a towel that the smaller fraggle grabbed gratefully with a small nodding bow. "'Thank you Mr. Watanabe , you're the best.'"

"Wembley, you know I don't _want_ to do it, but you get this way every time we go to a singing place, off a thousand miles away with that silly grin of yours…"

The yellow fraggle shook her head, her ginger pigtails swaying. "And not silly good, silly _crazy_! A splash is the only thing for it…"

"You gotta admit Wembley, that bad habit of yours' might be trouble.." Gobo added in as Red leaned on his shoulder where she sat, sucking on a leftover ice cube.

"What if you start getting all dreamy someday when we're crossing a street?"

"I'm sorry..But you know Gobo.. if I only.. had a guitar." Wembley looked down at his hands.

"Oh no, not the guitar again." Red groaned, chewing on another ice cube with a noisy crunch.

"…If I only had a guitar I bet I would be _extra_ great." He said looking up with bright hopefully eyes.

"Wembley we've been over and over this, silly creature guitars aren't for fraggles. We don't _need_ them." Gobo sighed, reaching to pat him on the shoulder.

"But Gobo…"

"..and even if they _were_ you'd have to pay _money_ for one, and I know you wouldn't want to give it up.." Gobo's voice fell into a serious tone. "You remember the rule we all agreed on…"

"Don't buy anything unless you can pass it on.." Wembley recited faintly.

"And it's a _good_ rule to…" Gobo nodded.

"..a good _silly_ one…" Red added, looking away quickly to whistle where she now sat in an adjoining chair, her legs crossed over on Gobo's lap.

"Aw Red, this isn't going to be about that World In A Box I made you pass on _again_ is it?" Gobo sighed. "The little silly creature was so happy..."

"Twenty-two million five ..something... _thousand_ points Gobo!" Red yelled with a crazed look, leaning forward and grabbing his shirt sleeve. "I almost had a world record.."

Gobo grinned, suddenly tickling the bare feet before him and sending the yellow fraggle onto the floor in an attack of surprised giggles.

"What _you_ almost had was two weeks without a _bath_." He chuckled.

"Maybe you guys are right, maybe..maybe not even a guitar would make me great…" Wembley said, his suddenly sad voice braking up their playful teasing quicker than any water.

"Wembley…" Gobo began, stopping mid-tickle.

"We never said _anything_ like that…" Red blurted out, catching the cutting edge of her taken a back-ness as best as she could as she got up.

Wembley turned from his friends, exchanging mellow words with the shop owner and bowing as the two other fraggles followed his lead.

The mood was still heavy and silent when they made their way though the swinging doors and onto the city streets,

filled even at this hour with groups of tourists (dressed completely out of season, as was their custom) on their way to Kyoto's many temples.

"What did he say Wembley?" Red asked gently to the furry back walking slowly in front of them, dragging a neon green backpack covered with band buttons along the sidewalk with heavy footsteps.

"He said we're more that welcome to stay at their house again anytime, and to be careful..and, and he said to study hard on our exams."

Red sighed "Why doesn't anyone ever listen when we say we're not in Middle, High, Sideways or Upside Down school? For creatures that spend..."

She shuttered from head to tail. "... _years_ in school you'd think they'd be smarter."

Gobo laughed "Now Red, you know that's just Mr. Watanabe way of wishing us good luck."

Gobo smiled, trotting to catch up to Wembley. "You see? We wouldn't get _anywhere_ without your translating Wembley, we're no good at it."

"Sure, but you could learn easy Gobo, you're _smart_." Wembley said, not looking up.

"Hey!" Red grumbled in pretend anger behind them, trying without much luck to stuff two large fish shaped wind-socks into her small bundle.

"You too Red. The..only reason I'm _okay_ at ten different languages is 'cause I'm not _good_ at anything…any _one_ thing. Besides singing, but everybody can do _that_."

Red fell silent as she finally picked up a long stick from the side of the road, pretending to be preoccupied with stinging her souvenirs like a pretend fisherman.

"Even..even.. _if_ I had a shiny guitar…"

"Wembley you know you're always…" Gobo began but was cut short by the growing temper under the younger fraggles words,

an odd mixture of anger and sadness that was once so rare to fraggle kind it had even frightened the experienced explorer the first time he heard it.

"You know everything Gobo, Red's strong and sure, Mokey's good at stories and magic things, and Boober takes care of everybody..what do I do, _what do I do_?"

Wembley lifted his head at last, giving Gobo a glare that was bordered with tears and suddenly bolting off without another word. His friends had to admit that for all the things he had said he was awful at,

running was not one of them.

"Wembley!" Gobo shouted, running forward with a dash he was getting better and better at lately . He just caught the strap of the maddened fraggles' pack a moment before Wembley wiggled free of it in one skillfully motion, sending him tumbling forward.

"Oh…" Gobo groaned, trying his best to hide the pain of a skinned knee as Red rushed to look at it. "I just don't know anymore Red, it..it was suppose to stop _years_ ago."

"Outer Space is seriously _weird_ about _everything_ I guess.." Red said softly as she kneed beside Gobo, looking up to watch the small green fraggle dart into the surrounding crowd. "I..I hope he'll be okay..."


End file.
